


Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - The Both of Us or this One particular Hug from Behind

by Samstown4077



Series: Colepaldi Collection [51]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Leaving, RPF, Sad, Suppressed Feelings, The woman who lived, hu-flu, the HUG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:59:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samstown4077/pseuds/Samstown4077
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moment Jenna hugs Peter from behind in the Tardis in "the Woman who lives". Character study. One Shot. What she thinks and what he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Who - Colepaldi RPF - The Both of Us or this One particular Hug from Behind

**Author's Note:**

> I watched this hug as gif for like 10 minutes and didn't know what to do with it. And then I wrote this short fic. Sometimes you can't run away from an idea, not when it is delivered so perfectly on screen.  
> RPF, no-native English. You know me by now.

 

She knows she will do it. It’s not a surprise. Not to her, and not to him. It stood like this in the script, all from the beginning. A hug from behind. So there is no big deal, they have hugged and touched a lot this year, but considering the way she will hug him any moment, it’s different. For the show. For them.

They hug a lot in private, but not like this. While she stands there, watching his back, while he talks and types, she sways back and forth, and her eyes travel over his figure. She tries to remember when the last time was, she has hugged someone like this.

It’s an intimate way to hug someone, at least that’s what she thinks. One wouldn’t hug a stranger like this, that she knows. He is everything but a stranger, and she believes he never really was. Not even when they met the first time ever, ordering the same food.

There was never a moment to her, where she thought ‘ _Who is this guy?_ ’.

No, it was always a thought of familiarity with him. A closeness that allowed her to lean into him at any time she wanted. He allowed it. In the Tardis, when she was still tired, or had a headache, she was allowed to rest her head against his arm for a second. In public, when she touched his face for a picture or grabbed his hand. He allowed it.

Some people have to work for such right, she never had to. It was simply there, and sometimes she could see he needed this. Especially from her. He always had been a tactile person, but not with everyone. There were certain kind of people, she could see in his expression, that he disliked the closeness, even it was only a handshake.

After a few times, she saw the smile he gave her afterwards and it encouraged her to do it more often, without thinking. Till it became the most natural thing in the world.

She isn't’ listening to what he says, it is none important, she knows when to come in, knows he awaits her hug. There is still time, some seconds, and she bits her lips while glancing over his costume, the guitar and his hair. She dares to think, he looks quite sexy like this.

She still isn’t getting why he is wearing those ridiculous plate trousers, and who the hell had allowed him to. Not that _he_ looks ridiculous, he looks good in it, the trousers do. She just wonders.

Rumours on the internet say, that he one day simply walked in with a hoodie, a wrecked shirt and those trousers and forgot to change in his button up shirt, before throwing over his coat. And on set everybody thought that this was his new costume, and nobody said anything.

There was surely a better explanation. A plan, but she likes the thought of ‘ _it just happened’_ better. Like a myth, something that suites him so well.

Full of tension, she waits till he has made his typing on the consoles keyboard, and then she just gives in. A little step forward and she literally falls against him, embraces him. For a moment her eyes fall close, and she enjoys the soft coat against her cheek, the warmth of his. His scent, the way he exhales, the way his body tenses for the fraction of a second only, and then gives in and catches her. Like he has always done — in many forms.

Without seeing, he catches her with his lean body, swinging with her toward the console. His eyes for a moment expectant, as he knows she will impact on him the moment he has finished typing, and then he simply lets it happen. Lets the emotion get the upper hand, and his eyes wander into the nothing, and he withdraws for a moment to get hold of the feeling of her body against his.

Indeed, it’s not a big thing, it’s only a hug. One that never will happen again. Also, never say never, he thinks, guessing it will take a while. A year or two, or forever. She is leaving. Every day she is leaving a bit more, and there are moments he wants to run to her trailer and tell her that it was the most stupid idea ever of her. In moments like this especially. She is leaving him, and it’s the worst feeling in the world. Because she is his best friend and to hell with professionalism.

He swears to himself that he never will let another companion hug him like this, because this hug — she owns it now. The same way she owns him.

Life is weird sometimes, and he pats her arm, keeps his hand there, and for a moment he wishes this was not a set, and not a scene to act.

“ _I’ve missed you, Clara Oswald.”_

“ _Oh don’t worry, daft old man. I’m not going anywhere.”_

The tragic of this scene will come to both of them later, when they will stand there, making their goodbyes and he will tell her that he will miss her, and she will smile, with big, sad eyes and assure him, that she is not gone for good. She is not leaving the planet, that she is not going anywhere.

That will be later. For now, it’s only them, — aside a film crew, around thirty people, two cameras and a strange silence — it has to be enough.

And it always has been enough, and so he breathes in and she breathes out and for an unending second they are one, in a hug that never will be … the same again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I swore to myself I wouldn't write anymore sad "goodbye-leaving" fics, but this whole s9 is screaming "departure, sadness and leaving" all the time. Summer-of-69-my ass! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I would be delighted over a message, a kudo or a reblog/like. Thanks!


End file.
